


The Vilified

by groffiction



Category: Captain America (Movies), Stucky - Fandom, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Winter Soldier (Comics)
Genre: Angst, BAMF! Bucky, Bamf! Steve, Bucky also has to have his tunes, Bucky and Steve are both switches, Bucky is jaded and sarcastic, Bucky is so done with people's shit, Canonical Blood, Completely AU, Eventual Metal Arm Appreciation Porn, Explicit Sexual Content, Humor, Hydra canonical deaths, I promise, Just let the poor goat herder and his grumpy artist boyfriend be, M/M, No Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Spoilers, Non descript Murder Missions, OC Deaths - none really important, Resolved Sexual Tension, Soulbonds, Soulmates AU, Steve Jumped After Bucky AU, Steve is too, Told from Bucky's First Person POV, Unresolved Sexual Tension, canonical violence, double agents stucky, mild reference to torture, more tags to be added later, slow burn kinda
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-25
Updated: 2019-05-05
Packaged: 2020-01-31 15:05:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,904
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18593737
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/groffiction/pseuds/groffiction
Summary: The last thing I remember seeing before I hit the sharp rocks of the mountain side, before the fall took my left arm, before I passed out, was Captain America deciding to forget about the mission, forget about Hydra, forget about being some super soldier hero. And I remember it so vividly like it happened just yesterday.The last thought that went through my brain was that if both of us survived the fall, or in his case, jump, then I was going to rip him a new one if he even had one left. Because thatpunk assbitchdecided to jump when he didn’t have to, when he had his whole life ahead of him, when he could have completed the mission and gone back to Peggy to take her dancing or some romantic shit like that.But, no, the lunatic had to come after me.-As told by Wakandan resident Goat Herder James “Bucky” Barnes in a crappy “borrowed” notebook of resident Grumpy Painter Steve Rogers’ after we finally retired from the Avengers - if they actually, you know,haveallowed us to retire - I am still mistrustful of that.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Just to forewarn to please mind the tags. If you see something that might need to be tagged, let me know. Also, as pointed out in the tags, this is First Person Bucky POV, and I have been having a fun time writing his thought process. Let me know what you guys think. Fanvideo below at the end of the chapter was put together by me, as well as Bucky's playlist, and all banners/art that will eventually be in the fic. Fic also will encompass a lot in the CA movies and some of the Avengers, though it's completely AU. 
> 
> Special thanks to soapytoastpants on Discord for coming up with the "Wakandan Goat Herder Bucky and Grumpy Painter Steve" idea and also thank you to my friends on Discord that have helped me get hooked so much on Stucky. Without further ado, I hope you all enjoy.

### The Vilified

_-As told by Wakandan resident Goat Herder James “Bucky” Barnes in a crappy “borrowed” notebook of resident Grumpy Painter Steve Rogers’ after we finally retired from the Avengers - if they actually, you know, **have** allowed us to retire - I am still mistrustful of that. _

 

1\. 

 

They say that when the world has gone to shit in a handbasket that certain unremarkable people step up to the challenge and make a difference. To make things better. Perhaps to ease the suffering of billions. One sacrifice made to make the world a better place. That sacrifice usually ends up forgotten, unless someone is popular enough to have their ass plastered in newspapers or made into a statue in their honor. Honor, glory, and all that crap. 

Not that I disrespect those that deem to die in honor and glory. I actually find them inspiring in a way. 

Maybe I wouldn’t be such a pessimistic asinine asshole if I would have died in the war. When I fell off that train. In all honesty, I thought I was dead. I fell for what seemed like forever, and I would be lying to myself in saying that I hadn’t been so scared. So full of life. So young. And yet, as the wind got knocked out of me, I chanced to glance back at Stevie for one last time. I wanted to die with him in my sight, if I could. That last, desperate fifteen seconds felt like an eternity.

And in those few precious seconds, I felt at peace. The fear left me, perhaps it was due to falling so fast for so long, I still don’t know. What I do know, is that as I looked at Steve, face tormented in horror and disbelief, I wanted to be there to hug him, comfort him maybe. But, at the same time, I felt like I did my part, even if I was so young, definitely too young to die. 

I should have known better than to think that Steve would be ok without me.

The last thing I remember seeing before I hit the sharp rocks of the mountain side, before the fall took my left arm, before I passed out, was Captain America deciding to forget about the mission, forget about Hydra, forget about being some super soldier hero. And I remember it so vividly like it happened just yesterday. 

The last thought that went through my brain was that if both of us survived the fall, or in his case, jump, then I was going to rip him a new one if he even had one left. Because that _punk ass_ **bitch** decided to jump when he didn’t have to, when he had his whole life ahead of him, when he could have completed the mission and gone back to Peggy to take her dancing or some romantic shit like that.

But, no, the lunatic had to come after me. 

And not that I am not totally grateful - I am, it just didn’t seem real at the time, even if it was so vivid and visceral. 

Steve gave up everything for me.

I don’t think I understood exactly what it meant, or why it was so significant, but now I do. It did take me quite a while to understand it, but once I did, I still couldn’t fathom it. 

As darkness finally fell, I don’t even think I registered the pain of losing my left arm, or even plastering my body on a mixture of rocks and snow. Just blissful darkness. No need to think or even dream. 

Just quiet darkness surrounding me like Death giving me a hug. I don’t know how long I was out. Could have been an hour, maybe more, but the next thing I remember is vaguely being dragged by someone - I assume someone, since I couldn’t see much. The cold was biting but at the same time it numbed my battered body to the point I couldn’t feel much either. It was both a blessing and a curse. Being so out of it, I couldn’t have fought off the Hydra soldier even if I tried.

I was so tired, and almost passed out several times before I felt myself being lifted and put on some sort of medical vehicle, being handled with a false sense of care. They shouldn’t have bothered, whoever it was. But, I was in no state to complain. I could hear a bit of moaning to my right, and when I actually managed to turn my head slightly, I was able to make out Steve.

He was bruised and bloody, but thankfully alive.

There were so many things I wanted to tell him, but I didn’t have the strength to say anything except for a quiet “Shtee”. I figure it was close enough.

Steve didn’t say anything. I wasn’t sure if he was conscious until he reached over and gripped my right hand. And that was enough. For now.

The questions and answers could wait.

Feeling darkness surround me again, I faded into an exhausted sleep, taking comfort that at least I wasn’t alone.

### 

When I woke up, I was alone, stretched out on a lab table, stripped of everything I owned. They had drugged me up pretty good to keep me calm and complacent I guess. I had been through this before with Hydra. Zola had been determined to make a soldier more powerful than Steve, and I had lost count of how many times I had been experimented on. Accepting my fate that I was back in the hands of Hydra, and not going anywhere soon, as impaired as I was, I barely remember what happened next. 

The pain was excruciating when they gave me a new arm, one made of some sort of metal made to withstand just about anything. The drugs in my system weren’t meant for pain relief after all. I still managed in between the torture and the screams to remember who I was. And even after all that, when I scarcely could hold on to my own name, I still remembered seeing Steve in my dreams. He was the only thing I could hold on to. 

I just hoped that fate had been a bit kinder to him than it was to me.

Time passed, as it normally does, and I lost track of it. I don’t know how long I was out of it, and I won’t bore you with the details of those cold, agonize filled years. 

It was when they finally broke me that I realized that Steve was alive.

Somehow, someway, when the worst of their reconditioning was at its peak, I fell into some sort of twisted out of body experience. I could see what they were doing to me, breaking me and rebuilding me into their perfect soldier, but I was detached from it. It was nice to not feel pain anymore, and I reveled in the feeling of being away from it all. But, then I heard other screams from somewhere nearby, and something drew me near to them. 

That’s when I found Steve, strapped to a medical table just as I had been, and I felt hope rise in me again. It hurt me more than I could ever comprehend, seeing Stevie like that. But, he was holding out, I could feel it. I then heard softly from behind me, a whispered word.

_“Bucky.”_

That word brought life inside my soul. I know it sounds so fucking crazy, but it was true. I turned and spotted Steve hovering close to me, his aura like a beacon from heaven or hell, depending on how you think on it. I found myself reaching out to touch him, embrace him, and we collided.

I know now that soulmates tend to bond physically first before mentally, but in this case, we did things backwards. Not that we were a normal case by any means of the imagination. We always tend to do things backwards, even now.

Our souls wrapped around eachother so tight that it felt impossible to figure out where one began and where one ended. 

We drew strength from one another, and I felt Steve cup my face, leaning in to nuzzle and kiss my brow, saying softly, _“We don’t have much time, Buck. So I want you to promise me something. I want you to promise me you won’t forget.”_

 _“I won’t. How could I?”_ I asked, swallowing carefully, breathing in the scent of his soul. 

Souls aren’t supposed to have a scent, but I could smell it as plain as day. Steve smelled like everything I loved in nature. He smelled like home.

_“No matter what they do. Don’t forget who you are.”_

_“Same goes for you, you punk.”_

Steve smiled at this, and muttered softly, _“Jerk.”_

It wasn’t until later that I fully understood what he had meant in that moment. For, Steve had seen the future in a flash as soon as I fell. That’s why he jumped. He had seen everything. His own future, mine, the fate of the world. Everything. And he was going to make sure that this future didn’t happen. Not if he could stop it.

We were forced to separate and head back to our bodies, the physical manifestations not used to going without their souls. On impulse I had grabbed Steve in desperation and kissed him on the lips, sealing our fates forever. Steve didn’t seem to mind. In fact, he smiled at me and probably would have kissed me back if it weren’t for us running out of time.

Fate tends to make us all its bitch, but there are sometimes, like that moment, where it seems to know what it’s doing. 

Coming back to my body, to all the pain and torture was like a shock to my system. I hated it. 

But, it was all worth it.

Because now I knew Steve was alive. 

And that he accepted our soul bond, though I didn’t know what it was at the time. That made me feel peace that Hydra could never conquer or take away. 

It gave me the strength to endure and survive.

Even when I finally became what they wanted me to be, the Winter Soldier, and Steve became the Star of Vengeance, I held onto that strength. That hope.

All I had to do was wait. That’s all we both had to do was wait until the perfect moment, where Hydra grew lax and we saw our chance to escape. Once that day came, we would raise hell on those that had done this to us. Revenge would of course be bittersweet, and some say that it does no one good to be consumed by it, but fuck. Every single one of my captors were going to pay for what they did. 

And if revenge had to make me its bitch, then so be it. I’d ride that fucker all across the galaxy if I had to.

It sucked that it took us nearly 50 years to finally get our chance to start acting out our plans. But, great things come to those who wait, and all that crap. Steve was prepared, as was I. 

We never were able to have that out of body experience again during our confinement, when they started sticking us in cryo in between missions for long periods at a time. But, I never forgot. And neither did Steve.

Nor, did we, the Vilified, _ever_ forgive.

### 

**December 12, 1991**

_04:05_

 

_“Longing.”_

….

_“Rusted.”_

….

_“Furnace.”_

Letting my eyelids open, I made sure to stare at my handler blankly, with no focus. This was one of the hardest parts of fooling my captors. Hydra agents might have some idiots in their fold, but not many. It was best to always play it safe. To never let them see that I still had my mind, as fucked up as it was. That I still had my memories. 

_“Daybreak.”_

….

_“Seventeen.”_

….

Though I hadn’t been able to connect soul wise to Stevie again since that one time some forty years before, I could still sense his presence. Whenever he was near, I could feel the bond pulsing lightly in the back of my mind. It was both a blessing and a curse. I am sure it was a two way street for him, too. For, we always knew if one of us was awake from Cryo, or if we both were still alive. But, we also could feel one another’s pain. 

_“Benign.”_

…..

_“Nine.”_

…..

And it’s one thing to feel your own pain, and know your own limits. It’s another thing entirely when you feel your soulmate’s pain. The feeling is so uniquely bad that if there even is a Hell, then Hell would be more merciful than it. 

It’s not really something either one of us could block out. But, we had to do our best. And so far, we were successful. But, for how long was unclear.

_“Homecoming.”_

…..

_“One.”_

…..

_“Freight car.”_

Knowing all too well how to act like a blank slate, dutiful soldier as I was, I stayed quiet. The man in front of me was new, possibly a new recruit, or even just recently promoted. It didn’t bother me too much. I knew for a fact that no matter who sat in front of me, being in charge of me, being my handler, they would always - ALWAYS send me on a mission for Hydra. Or they would torture me. Or both. 

Had to wipe the slate clean, make sure the Winter Soldier stayed useable like some tinker toy. 

The Winter Soldier wasn’t a person. They were an Asset, a weapon, nothing more. Didn’t have feelings, wasn’t supposed to care about anything other than the mission. Success only meant less pain as a reward. Failure was an extra gradient. There comes a point in time where a person becomes immune to pain because they have been so broken down, so used, so battered that they come to relish in it. Because that’s the only way to survive. 

Lucky or unlucky for me, I hadn’t fallen that far off the deep end. Pain was pain. And I knew for a fact, that not everyone on this earth was like Hydra. Perhaps if I didn’t have Steve as a soulmate with me, if I was all alone, then I might have turned into something different. But, here I was, still waiting for that one misstep that would cause Hydra their end and get us closer to freedom.

I could sense that Steve was away from the facility, but he wasn’t in any pain, and he was alive. So that was all that mattered to me at this point. 

_“Good morning, Soldier.”_

_“Ready to comply,”_ I said in rough Russian, keeping my tone even, despite being a bit hoarse from screaming a bit earlier. 

_“Excellent. Your mission instructions: Extraction of serum compounds in the possession of Howard Stark. Assassination is acceptable if there are witnesses. If there are none, then that is even better. We simply need the package he carries so we can make you some brothers and sisters. You and the Star of Vengeance would perhaps, be happy not to be alone?”_

When I said nothing, knowing this trick all too well, my handler smirked and nodded. _“After extraction, you are to meet with the Star of Vengeance in a safehouse in Berlin to await further instructions. Understood?”_

_“Affirmative.”_

_“Good. You have one week. All the information you need will be given to you before leaving the premises. Do not fail me, soldier. Hail Hydra.”_

_“Hail Hydra.”_ Fuck them.

### 

**December 14, 1991**

_18:36_

The motorcycle in the US Hydra had given me for the mission was pretty efficient, and ever since my handlers started being a bit more lax on how I got missions done, I was able to listen to music, or at least the radio from time to time. I guess they figured that they’d wipe my memories each time they brought me out of Cryo for a mission, so why not let me jam to some harmless tunes. 

God, I loved the Rock ‘n Roll age. Yea, I still loved the music that was popular back in the 30’s and 40’s but I would have shit a brick if I had missed the emergence of Rock ‘n Roll or even the Disco Scene. Give me some Elvis, Beatles, BeeGees, CCR, Deep Purple, Black Sabbath, Aerosmith, Led Zeppelin, Blue Oyster Cult, Rolling Stones - to name just a handful. Then there were the 80s with iconic pop songs and bands ranging from Cindy Lauper, Madonna, and Michael Jackson to Boy George, Queen, U2, Tears for Fears, The Cure… and so many other artists. But, what I really, really loved, was working a mission listening to the edgy music of Metallica and Nirvana in the late 80s and early 90s. 

The muzzle they had me wear that covered half my face had a small radio with a high tech ear bud attached. Infrared bullet proof glasses disguised my eyes, though once I got to the motel I would be forced to take everything off of my face so I wouldn’t freak out the sales associates at the front desk. Driving in the US was nostalgic and I had to fight with myself not to stop and take it all in. How things had changed in the past forty plus years. I must confess I was a bit anxious to get this job done sooner rather than later. If I could get it finished and done with, then I could be on my way to Berlin to meet up with Steve, of whom Hydra had given the name the Star of Vengeance

God, I hadn’t seen his beautiful face in almost twenty years. It only felt like a month or so due to the Cryo jumps in time, but it still was a long time. I ached, positively ached to just see if he was ok. The bond helped a great deal, but it could only do so much. I needed to see Steve with my own two eyes to make sure he was still whole, still himself. 

With a huff, I turned up the volume to Metallica’s ‘Nothing Else Matters’, heading towards a motel off the beaten path about twenty minutes to the north of Washington, D.C. Howard Stark was due for a meeting at the Pentagon in three days, from what Hydra’s Intelligence had gleaned, and he would be carrying the serum I was tasked to extract. I may have been trained as a cold blooded assassin, but even I was wary going up against the Pentagon by myself. It would be best to apprehend Howard on the road enroute to the Pentagon instead. 

Or, if I was able to track him down earlier, perhaps I could get the serum sooner and with less complications. In a way, I was curious to see just how much Stark had changed over the years. But, despite my curiosity, I wasn’t stupid. It would be best to stay incognito and not be noticed by Stark at all. I didn’t want to have to kill him if I didn’t need to. 

And although I might not be under surveillance at this point in time, I needed to make sure that I checked in with my handlers on time, each checkpoint, and be very, very careful what I said and did in between those times. I had been Hydra’s bitch for far too long to not be just a tad bit paranoid about who could be watching me, or listening in, when I wasn’t aware of it. I know for a fact that there was a not so secret mechanism fail safe imbedded in my metal arm, and if I strayed from the parameters of the mission too drastically, that I could be hindered, or even crippled by it. 

It was just my luck that I would get struck by fucking lightning right before I got to the motel. 

Out of all the things on this earth that I was NOT expecting, being struck by lightning in the middle of December was definitely on a top tier. Trees were all around, hell there was thick cloud cover, yea, but no storms were forecasted in the area. It made no sense why mother nature decided to kick a poor asshat in the balls unless I pissed off some godlike entity in a past life that I wasn’t aware about. Still, it fucking hurt.

Scarily enough, I had felt worse pain in my life.

When I came to, I was laying in a ditch, hair sticking out in every which way, metal arm smoking like a bitch, and my whole body feeling microwaved. Shaking off some dirt, dead and singed leaves, I got back on my feet unsteadily. Once my head stopped spinning, I noticed my radio got fried, and all of my high tech communication gear as well. My motorcycle wrecked, but salvageable, not far from where I was. 

Once my arm stopped smoking, I glowered up at the sky, wondering if fate was just screwing with me like it always did, or if this was a blessing in disguise. 

I must confess that the idea of leaving Hydra right then and there sounded mighty tempting at that point, but at the same time, I was worried that if I did leave that Steve would suffer because of it. No, it was better to defect together, once the time was right. And now wasn’t the time. 

So, I walked my bike the last few blocks to the motel I was going to be setting up camp at for the next few days, and started cursing a blue streak under my breath in all thirty languages I knew when it started raining buckets with a hint of freezing pellets intermixed. I don’t mind rain, not one bit, but freezing rain is hell to deal with in the middle of a mission. Still, if there was one thing good out of becoming the Winter Soldier, it’s that lightning only hurts, but doesn’t kill me.

Not that I wanted to tempt mother nature in that aspect.

Not one bit.

After checking in to the motel, I made sure to take a hot shower since I wasn’t sure when I’d be allowed such a luxury once the mission was completed. My left arm whined a bit under the spray, but other than that, it seemed to be ok. Didn’t feel any different. The rest of me reveled in having an actual shower, with soap and shampoo that came with the room. They even had a spare razor I could use, of which I did. 

Afterwards, I dried off and checked my backpack to make sure that all of my stuff was still salvageable, changing into simple black leggings to sleep in. Guns and ammunition would arrive in the morning at a rendezvous point not far from here. At least I hadn’t been wearing most of my gear, otherwise I might have blown up from the lightning strike. And that, I might have not survived. The only things I had on me for protection were knives and a machete I picked up not far from the airport. They seemed unharmed. Maybe some a bit melted in places, but nothing I couldn’t use. 

With a soft growl, I looked at the time on the old fashioned clock near the window, noting I needed to check in. Arching a brow at the phone on the nightstand, still not quite used to using punch key phones instead of rotary dials, I shrugged and dialed the local number for Hydra that was untraceable.

After checking in, and letting them know my tech got fried due to lightning, I was told that I would get replacements the next day. I was also given more intel on where Howard Stark was located currently. Sniffing a bit, I hung up and sat down at the table to tune up my left arm a bit. Once that was done, I was at a loss of what to do to pass the time. 

Watching TV didn’t really sound appetising, and ordering food didn’t sound that great either. Finally deciding on meditating, I sat in the middle of the floor near the bed and started zenning. I did this quite often in between torture sessions with Hydra in the early days before I became the Winter Soldier. It helped pass the time and kept me calm and not out of my mind. But, what really was a kicker was after I soul bonded with Steve, I could reach out and feel his essence while meditating. 

But, it only worked if Steve was doing the same exact thing.

Not trying to get my hopes up, I just sat in lotus position, letting myself center and relax. 

For a time, the sound of rain beating down outside on the window pane, on the roof, and the irritating whine of a rust bucket of a tin can of a heater in the room was all I heard, and soon those sounds faded. I was able to focus on the soul bond deep within me, tied forever to Steve. Reaching out carefully, I tugged on the bond gently. If Steve wasn’t able to respond, then that was just the way things were. Patience might be a virtue but in times like these, it sucked. 

Still, I waited for a time, not pulling on the delicate chord of energy any more, not wanting to distract Steve if he was in a mission or otherwise occupied by Hydra. I must have sat there for an hour, maybe less, I am not sure. All I know is that right when I was about to pull myself out of meditation, I felt it. The slight, but firm tug in response along the bond.

Breathing out a deep sigh in relief, I couldn’t help grinning like a fool, nearly breaking my face using muscles I’d otherwise neglected in a long time. Being able to do this and actually get a response was amazing. Licking my lips, I tugged on the bond lightly in response.

Leave it to Steve to figure out a way for us to communicate even more in the next minute or so. There were a couple of tugs in rapid succession from eachother on his end and I almost lost focus at the odd feel. It wasn’t until he did it again that I understood what he was trying to do. 

Morse Code.

I responded back, being a bit rusty. What I sent Steve was supposed to be a simple question of if he was ok, and I hoped against hope I wasn’t sending him something stupid instead. 

There was a pause for a bit, but he must have understood what I was trying to say for he responded back simply, _Safe. Healthy. Tired. Still a punk. You still a jerk?_

I snorted at that and replied with, _Always._

Steve then asked, _Your status?_

_Same as you. Maybe less a few brain cells. But I still remember. You?_

_Yes. I remember._

There was a pause for a moment, but before I could respond, he stated, _I miss you._

I almost called Steve a total sap, but in all honesty, I was trying to keep it all together. This was the first conversation - actual private conversation we’d had since soul bonding all those years ago. It was incredible. If I shed a few tears, then I had every right to them. I hadn’t shed tears of joy in so long. 

_I miss you too Stevie._

### 

The Vilified Stucky Fanvideo done to the edgy, jaded song Vilify by Device (hence the name of the fic):

[The Vilified](https://vimeo.com/332381197) from [Groffiction](https://vimeo.com/shaygroffersgroffiction) on [Vimeo](https://vimeo.com).


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A big thank you to people who have decided to take the plunge and read this fic, kudo, and comment! That helps big time whenever I write, so thank you. Also, because I just couldn't help myself, I made some art for this chapter. Below artwork at the end of the chapter is by me. I also wanted to point out that those of you who have already read the first chapter, you will notice that I have changed Steve's Hydra alias to the Star of Vengeance - just seemed to suit him better than Black Star, especially due to the art I did of him. I hope you enjoy this long chapter - let me know what you think!
> 
> TW: FYI, the pic at the end of the chapter does have bullet holes in a wall / building, and there is blood splattered (but none from the boys). Just thought I would warn you guys.

2.

 

That night, I didn’t sleep much, and it wasn’t necessarily due to my brain being in such a permanently exhausted pigeon type of stage. Like when you are so tired your brain doesn’t know how to turn itself off. Nah, that wasn’t it. I’d been in so much Cryo through the years that the first few hours after getting woken up always felt like being stuck in a barrel with too much fog clogging my brain. But, Hydra had always been good at making sure I woke up pretty fast after that - in the form of pain. Even that wasn’t the reason why I was still up.

_I miss you._

Those words were haunting me and not letting me sleep. Steve hadn’t said much else in our short but needed conversation, and what he did say I treasured so much. I hadn’t realized just how much I missed Steve until then. But, at least now, we had a way of communicating directly without anyone knowing about it. Unless Hydra managed to build a mind-reader or had some psychic come in, we were safe in this. 

We could have our private conversations without Hydra even knowing anything about it. And because of that fact, my brain was not only trying to wrap around that, but it was also trying to come up with a faster and easier way to connect. It made me wish that I could be free enough to study about this type of connection - were we the only ones alive that had such a thing? Were soulbonds rare and if so, then was there a way to track down those people to ask them if they had the same way of talking to one another? 

So many thoughts raced around in my brain, but the biggest one that was running around in there bashing every other thought down like bowling pins was that if Steve and I somehow strengthened the bond link, maybe we could send actual verbal or thought words through it - not just tugs for Morse Code. Telepathy was not something I had ever studied or even fathomed. I knew that there were some legit psychics that lived in hiding all around Brooklyn, back home, but for it to exist just between two people? That, I was totally clueless about.

Suddenly, Howard Stark sounded so much more valuable to me than he ever did before. A plan started taking shape, and for the first time in over forty years, I felt like I was finally getting somewhere - another step towards freedom. Howard Stark studied all sorts of things, not just hovering cars or cool weapons systems. That, I was sure of. If there was a way to talk to him about this, perhaps he could help or at least start a theoretical process. 

Looking over at the time, I narrowed my eyes. It was barely two in the morning. Shit, this was such a stupid plan. But, if I could somehow pull it off, then there would be no need to kill Howard. And, I could still complete my mission. If this was going to work, then I would need to think of some things I could give up in exchange for Howard’s discretion. 

It didn’t take me long to get out of bed, get dressed, geared up and out the door on silent feet. I just had to be sure I got back in time for the meet up for weapons. That meant I had maybe four hours I could mess around with. Not much time at all to get to Howard and try to convince him not to try and kill me.

Still less trying to convince him to help me.

Would he even remember me? 

This was so stupid, and I knew that if I failed in this, there would be hell to pay. But, what other choice did I have? Would there even be a new opportunity for me to get some outside help and by extension Steve? I couldn’t afford to wait that long to find out. So, yea this was all friggin dangerous and horribly idiotic, but it was the only thing I had to work with.

I was going into this plan blind. 

I had no tech, and limited weaponry. 

Perhaps that might be a good thing.

It was easy to dismantle the security system cameras of the motel, though if anyone tried checking up on me, I had ensured they wouldn’t make it that far into the room before it blew up. I was always proficient with building explosives out of pretty much nothing - not just from learning all that shit in the war or in Hydra training, and even if the collateral damage concerned me, I had come too far for so long to allow anyone to track me. If I was going to be discovered, then might as well go out with such a big bang that there were no witnesses, no information, no nothing.

I quickly headed towards a vehicle a few blocks away from the motel, making sure not to draw attention to myself, and keeping my metal arm mostly covered. The rain had let up some, though the cold still made my breath come out of my muzzle in damp foggy puffs. I was able to get inside it and hotwire it well enough. The vehicle might not have been the nicest car, but I wasn’t looking for fancy flashy things. Non-assuming cars were better for going undetected in places off the grid. It was also an older vehicle that didn’t have alarms on it, so that made it easier.

If I wasn’t so pressed for time, I probably would have been a bit suspicious by just how easy it had been to steal the car. But, regardless, the car was luckily not tagged by the police or bugged. Keeping an eye on the gas, knowing that the least I could do was give the poor owner a full tank of gas once I returned the Nova, I sped away in the light rain. On impulse I turned on the car radio at low volume and noted that the owner at least had good taste in music. 

Though I knew where Howard located, I had only glanced at one of my maps at the motel. I knew which streets to go, so that was the important thing. Once I was a few blocks away from where Howard was staying, I parked the car carefully and quietly, turning off the ignition. The rain had picked up, but this time I didn’t mind the freezing pellets that came with it. Yea, it was cold, but it kept things real in my mind and body.

The small vacation home looked pretty well unprotected, but I wasn’t stupid. Well, I was going after this stupid plan yea, but I am not that much of an ignoramus when it came to casing any joint, regardless of the scenario. I spotted some high tech cameras near the garage, front door, and even a few mostly hidden in the sprawling lawn. 

Scowling a bit, I figured I would probably have to draw Howard’s bodyguards out if he had any before I could make a move. But, that wasn’t that appealing. I could always hop the fence for the back, but since I was going into this blind, I wasn’t sure if there were dogs back there, or if there was just as big of security.

Luck, perhaps fate was on my side, for though I was hidden behind a thick evergreen tree surveying the house, my jaw almost dropped when someone behind me said a soft hello. I nearly jumped a foot and turned to look at who the fuck was that had managed to sneak up behind me. It had been a very long time since anyone had done so, and I had to force myself not to attack first and ask questions later. 

The person who spoke to me was none other than Howard Stark, standing now in front of me, in someone else’s lawn. The realization dawned on me. The safehouse wasn’t here. There had been faulty information. Before I could panic, the man held up his hand and said softly, “Before you try and run, I have to tell you that you won’t get far. I have people with guns trained on you as we speak. But, I would also like to prevent any incidents if possible. So, I am willing to talk this out if you are.”

I had to admit, this was something I was not expecting. What a weird fucked up kind of couple of days. Knowing I had to say something, otherwise be forced into action, and possibly get my cover blown if there were cameras trained on my face, I said simply, “I have information. And request for help in a personal matter in exchange. That is all.”

The man relaxed visibly and smirked. I almost wished that we were not cast in the shadows of the dimly lit neighborhood so I could fully see the man I had come to know all those years ago in the war. I could barely make out his weathered features. Pictures didn’t do much when it came to actually seeing someone live. Yes, I knew what Howard looked like now, but I didn’t really know exactly how his emotions played on his face, or what he looked like in certain positions or relaxed. 

That’s what I was curious to see. Call me a fucking creeper all you like, but as you all can see, I wasn’t able to get out much. 

So, though I knew I probably was heading into a trap, when Howard said softly, “In that case, follow me,” I did so. Luckily I had my muzzle on, otherwise I might have blown my cover to agents that might or might not be surveying Howard and his surroundings.

The man lead me a few blocks away from the safehouse to a park where there were benches. The rain had let up but the seats were drenched and cold. Still, when Howard made a move to sit down on one, his long coat protecting his lower half from the chill, I did the same, ignoring the feel of the elements seeping into my ass and thighs. 

“Stand down. We are good, guys. Thank you,” Howard said, and after a few moments of silence, he nodded slowly. “Chances are we are still being watched but we at least have some verbal privacy. I have a frequency jam device that I just turned on that will boggle their tech for a limited amount of time, but we should have at least a few minutes before they finally get their tech under control.”

I relaxed a bit and nodded. “Thank you, Howard.”

“You know, your voice sounds awfully familiar,” Howard glanced at me and narrowed his eyes.

“That’s because we knew eachother. Or, you knew me a long time ago in the war,” I said, seeing no harm in saying that at least. Howard might have jammed the frequencies - or he might not have. I wasn’t going to spill all my guts to him until I was sure I could trust him - if I ever could.

Howard rubbed his chin in interest before he murmured, “I don’t suppose you will tell me who you are?”

“No. Not yet,” I said, keeping things simple. 

“Fair enough,” Howard said with a sigh. “Tell me what you want, and I will tell you if I can give it to you, and then we can talk information.”

So, I told Howard enough. I kept everything that could identify us to Howard out of my story telling, but I did make sure to tell him the gist of everything. “We’ve had one out of body experience and have bonded that way. We can communicate with eachother along our bond threads. I am not sure how science would actually do that, but it’s the way it is. My questions are simple. I just want to know if we are the only ones out there like that, and if not, who might we be able to trust to go to to find out more about our bond? And, would there be a possible way to actually talk mentally with just eachother along this bond?”

“You’ve definitely come to the wrong person on this sort of subject,” Howard muttered dryly, and I started snickering, not realizing that I had missed his sort of dry sarcasm so much. The man then sighed and thought for a moment. “Believe it or not, you aren’t the only ones with that sort of bond. It defies all scientific laws out there, but I have come across people that have had this sort of thing happen to them. You were right in thinking it’s a soulbond. But, the only other thing I can really tell you is that it’s rare. The people who experience these types of bonds keep it very hush hush for their protection I imagine. I could look around and see if I could get you a few contacts, but that’s about as much as I can do.”

I nodded slowly. “That’s more than I had hoped for.”

“As for if you can talk telepathically with one another, that is definitely above my paygrade. I could look into it for you, if you are unable to do so yourself?” 

“That would be appreciated, thank you,” I said, admitting with a grim note in my voice, “My handlers don’t let us out much. Just for missions and they try to wipe our memories afterwards. Keeps us as fresh weapons. Assets.”

“Assets?” Howard asked, suddenly sounding intrigued.

I had to be careful now. I couldn’t say what I wanted to, but I could say a few things. After putting my thoughts together, I said carefully, “There are some, like our handlers, that are still alive, though they should be dead and buried from the war. But, when you cut off this particular faction’s head, two more take its place.”

Howard was silent for a long time until finally he asked, “Were you sent to kill me?”

I was proud of him for connecting the dots so easily. Howard Stark had always been a very smart man. Perhaps for his own good. I admitted, “If the package is not delivered, they will make sure I don’t make the same mistake twice. They did tell me to leave no witnesses, but they still think I am a blank slate soldier. I would prefer to keep it that way. So, though I do not wish to kill you, for you were kind to me during the war, and helped myself and my soulmate, I might have to if you do not allow me to proceed in my mission.”

“So you are after my work.” Howard mused softly. “Is there anything else you can tell me - you said you had information?”

“Yes.” I took a careful look around before finally saying, “Never trust anyone. Not even your organization. Infiltration is big within SHIELD. If I had more time, and were not as watched, I would tell you more. But, know this, if you help us find a way out of our situation by connecting the dots on our soulbond, then we can be your inside eyes. They put us in Cryo stasis after each mission, so the next time I see you after my mission is complete, it might be several years in the future.”

“You would be double agents?”

“Though I have not talked with my soulmate about this yet, I am sure he wouldn’t be opposed to it. Any way we can eventually get our revenge and finally be free of our chains, we will take it,” I admitted.

“I see.” Howard thought for a moment before asking, “If there was a way to get you what you need to keep your position secure - maybe half of a package, would that work?” 

“My handlers intelligence say you have four items in said package. If you have more, that is not my concern.” When Howard smirked, I couldn’t help feeling pleased. Stark had more serums than Hydra thought. Good to know. 

“I might be able to give you what you seek. But, how do we stage this?” Howard asked.

“Leave that to me,” I said, feeling a smile coming on. “However, before I do anything, I want a contract written, signed and dated.” I might not have anything in my actual name, but I did have a post office box under a different alias in New York. Before I headed to Berlin, I would stop by there and put the contract in there. 

The only things I owned now were a small stack of bills, bonds, and emergency Hydra passports, so the contract would be safe there. 

“Very well. But, first, give me more information if you can and an alias you want the contract to be legally bound to.”

### 

After talking with Howard about a plan of action, legalities for the contract, terms and conditions, etc, I left him and headed back to the stolen car. More like I was let go. And I wouldn't have been surprised if Howard had a few people following me. So, I put gas in the vehicle and ditched it nearby before sprinting on foot the remaining distance to the motel, making sure to lose whoever was tracking me. 

Easily heading inside the motel room, carefully avoiding triggering my own explosive, I dismantled it once noting that I was alone. Regardless of the fact that I hadn't been discovered or found out, I couldn't risk staying here. Resigned, I picked up the phone and dialed my handlers to let them know I was taking my busted up bike to a repair shop that was going to be open in an hour or so nearby. Once I got an affirmative, I hung up and left, using the back roads to the shop. 

I managed to get there right as the shop opened and handed off the bike, slinging my backpack over one shoulder. Looking around in the dimly lit surroundings outside the shop, it wasn't long before I spotted one of Hydras vehicles coming down the road to collect me. Narrowing my eyes but keeping them carefully blank, I waited until an agent opened the door and ordered for me to get inside.

Sitting down next to the agent, I didn't speak except to identify myself as the person they were looking for. They did the same, though it was irrelevant. Though hidden in the public unseen, I could still recognize a Hydra agent from miles away. 

I wouldn't have jumped in the vehicle otherwise.

Once at the rendezvous point, I was equipped with various guns and ammunition as well as a new bike. I checked over every item carefully, not sure why Hydra wanted to give me another bike when the other one would have been tuned up within a few hours. I must have looked a bit suspicious, looking over the bike for one of the agents muttered softly in Russian, “We cannot afford a faulty bike, even if fixed relatively quickly. Use this one instead, Soldier.”

I nodded dispassionately and figured this bike would do. Nothing seemed amiss.

“Understood.”

### 

**_December 16, 1991_ **

 

**_22:05_ **

 

Staging Howard Stark’s death was actually pretty simple. The problem with people when staging deaths, is usually what happens afterwards, when said supposedly dead people can’t keep out of the limelight and you know, stay actually in fucking _hiding_. I will never understand why some people just can’t keep themselves away from big cities or risk themselves being found out when they fall in love with some asshole who coincidentally is related to a cop or has their cousin’s nephew’s aunt on their husband’s side of the family that is a gossiper. 

Unpopular opinion: if you want to have a fresh start somewhere else and keep your faked death, actually _FAKE_ , then become a fucking _hermit_ and watch your ass. Be paranoid. Because even if you seem to think that you have covered all your basis - it’s when you start relaxing is when some assassin (like me) is going to find you and end you. 

Am I speaking from experience? That’s for me to know and you to find out.

Anyways, Howard actually was one of those smart people that knew he didn’t know everything. So, when I told him the plan, he stuck with it, bless his heart. I had given him no reason to trust me, but I should have known better than to think that he wasn’t intelligent enough not to find out my real name and who I really was. 

Yea, I could understand him finding out I was the Winter Soldier, one of Hydra’s resident psycho assassins aka: _#1 Satan’s metal armed guinea pig_ , but for him to find out or even remember that I was MIA Sergeant Barnes from WWII, that didn’t even cross my mind. Granted, I hadn’t had much sleep in the past 72 hours, hadn’t had any coffee in all that time, and the only food I had managed to wolf down was a bologna sandwich one of the Hydra agents gave me because my stomach was growling like a mad beast - and frankly was annoying the poor bastard. So, though my mind was on the mission and what was at stake, and how many hours I had until I got to see Steve, it wasn’t really on anything else at that point.

Driving Howard’s vehicle off the road was a piece of cake, and the new motorcycle seemed to drive better. Luckily, Stark had ensured that his wife was still at the safehouse “having” come down with the flu, so she wasn’t present. I noted the camera on my bike was rolling, watching my every move, so I was going to have to be quick. Wrenching off the driver side door, I reached in and checked Howard’s pulse, which was fine. He had a pretty nasty gash on his face, which might serve him well for overall effect. At least he was conscious and not trying to move too much. With me hunched over like that, it was easy for Howard to slip my folded contract into one of my front pockets. 

He then whispered into my ear, “If the contract is satisfactory, Sergeant Barnes, ensure you follow the instructions in it very carefully. I don’t know how you survived all these years without aging, but I can definitely guess. What you require is in the trunk.”

My eyes widened, but I kept my expression contained and didn’t turn my head or give any notion that i heard his whisper. I made it look like I was rummaging around his pockets until finally I said simply, “Cryogenetics is a bitch, but effective.” I slipped a small folded list into his pocket, adding, “Wait until I am completely gone before moving to step two.”

Howard whispered, “Will do. Goodluck.”

I then got out of the vehicle, proceeding to get into the trunk and got the serum. All four there. But, I wasn’t stupid. I reached into my pack and pulled out a small test kit. Once ensuring that the briefcase in fact did carry four legitimate serums, I left quickly and as quiet as one could on a motorcycle.

I was to deliver the package myself to my handlers in Siberia. But, first, I needed to meet up with Steve and wait for further instructions. Disabling the camera on the bike was pretty easy. I’ve done it more than once in my time as a forced Hydra assassin. My handlers always got pissed, but they never really did much about it, just waive their hands in the air in exasperation and yell, as if that did them any good. I was built and formed into the Winter Soldier, it didn’t matter how much tech or gear that got destroyed in the process. As long as there was proof of a mission successful, then it didn’t matter. 

Changing clothes on into domestic ones at a small gas station nearby, I quickly read the contract over, noting that it seemed pretty standard for a double agent. Though I’d never been one before now, I had assassinated several who had been. The contract looked legit, but I made sure to read all the fine print too. With a grunt, I signed my alias name I had picked, one James Winter, with a small smirk, and pocketed the contract. I quickly hid the briefcase in a safe spot near the first bank I needed to go to.

Slipping into two banks unseen and not documented in cameras was always a fun experience. The first one was my own bank, using the ventilation shaft to get inside the vault without triggering alarms, and once inside, I got into my safe deposit box pretty easily to drop off my copy of the contract. The second bank - the one I was to drop off Stark’s signed copy was probably going to be rigged to capture me. 

Howard might have recognized me, but I hadn’t stayed an assassin for so long under Hydra’s control without being extremely paranoid. 

I was right to be paranoid.

There were a few SHIELD agents nearby, but they weren’t Hydra, so I breathed a bit easier. One agent looked grimmer than a pitbull without his breakfast, black eyepatch over his left eye, dressed in black leather from head to toe. He had an ageless appearance, his dark skin seeing battle scars of some form or another, and I could tell that he was weathered, possibly in his late thirties, early forties. 

Thank heavens it was dark out. Otherwise they might have seen me as I slipped behind the agents and headed up onto the roof. That bald one eyed bastard though. He seemed to have a sixth sense or at least a sense of knowing exactly what was going on, for when I finally got situated for the drop off, the man seemed to materialize out of thin air on top of the roof on the other side of me. 

Scowling thoughtfully, I looked around, checking my exit routes. I didn’t want to get into a fight with potential allies, but if I had to, I would. The man slowly closed the door to the roof access quietly and arched a brow. “Now, how rude is that? You aren’t even going to say hello or introduce yourself?”

“Hello, and no.” I couldn’t help being a bit bitchy. 

“Some people these days. I should put a boot to your ass but somehow I don’t think you’d appreciate that,” He said, coming to stand at a respectable distance away from me, as if he were easing into a cornered animal situation at the local shelter.

Fuck, he was right to do so. I didn’t know this person, and I couldn’t delay much longer before my handlers started wondering where I’d gone. A semi-stable assassin being cornered like this wasn’t the best idea by SHIELD, or even Howard - if he was the one putting this guy up to this. 

“What do you want then?” I asked warily, trying to stay calm and collected, the contract clutched in my metal fist at my side.

“I want a lot of things.” The man finally got to a distance I was not ok with, and I backed up slightly, clenching my fist tighter. The man raised his hands in a placating gesture. “No need for that. I am not here to force you to stay, or even to try and capture you. I am here because of Stark.”

“I am listening,” I said, still not buying his placid tone.

“Have you signed the contract aka, addressed between one Howard Stark and one James Winter?” The man asked.

When I slowly nodded, he suddenly smiled. A man should not look more dangerous when smiling _NATURALLY_. Feeling my skin start prickling warningly, the man finally said, “Good. That’s great. If you hand it over to me, I’ll make sure it gets to the appropriate people.”

“I was instructed to give this to no one. It needs to go into P.O. Box -”

“Nine Six Eight Three Twenty Two, F.U.R.Y., am I correct?” When I said nothing, he nodded. “That’s my Shield number and code name. Now, can we dispense with the bullshit so we can all have a nice night?”

Looking around, I really didn’t have a choice in the matter. Finally I let out a soft huff. “If this is false and you hurt him, I’ll kill you.”

“Oh I don’t doubt it, son,” Fury said, sobering when he noted I still wasn’t relaxing or advancing. “Winter, I know you don’t trust me. Trust needs to be earned and we don’t have time for that kind of relationship. So, how about this. You give me the contract, and I give you the name you need to research your soulbond.”

Fuck.

Well, when he put it that way…..

And at least the asshole hadn’t asked for the serum briefcase.

### 

**_November 18, 1991_ **

 

**_23:06_ **

 

After reaching the checkpoint a bit later than scheduled, I made sure to tell my handlers that I had completed the mission and had the package and that the only thing that came out of it as a mishap was the camera on my motorcycle got damaged. There was a bit of cursing, but they didn’t seem surprised. The footage of the ‘kill’ of Stark was there, as was the procuring of the briefcase, so that was enough to appease them. 

They flew me then to Berlin, where I was to meet up with Steve. By the time I got to the next checkpoint, it was all over the news that Stark was dead, killed in a car wreck. Now, if the bastard stayed hidden off the grid, that would be great. During the long flight they played some rap music that nearly made me want to punch a hole in something. It wasn’t that I didn’t like rap music. Ok, yea, I really didn’t like or understand CERTAIN rap music, (some artists are amazing singers, I kid you not), and they were playing all the kinds that were bad. Just god awful and it nearly made my ears bleed. 

It also made me contemplate bashing my skull into the bulkhead over and over until I passed out so I could have some peace and quiet. 

I don’t know what was worse, being tortured by Hydra before and after missions or having to deal with an eight hour flight to Berlin with that kind of garbage screaming in my ears.

I swear the only reason why I even survived that flight was because I knew Steve was at the end of it. 

Once we landed, I got another vehicle - this time a car, and was able to drive by myself to Steve’s location, briefcase in the trunk. For a long few minutes I just enjoyed letting my ears recover from all that racket. Steve was supposed to be at the tail end of another mission, so he might still be finishing things up at the warehouse on the outskirts of Berlin. The city pollution faded away as I drove, and stars came out once I got onto the long and winding dirt road towards the old place. 

It was definitely a sight for sore eyes, seeing the milky way come out a bit in the darkness. 

Trying to keep my nerves under control, knowing that if I disturbed Steve at the tail end of a mission, it’d be a bit dangerous. I hadn’t seen him in twenty years and who knows what Hydra had done to him in that entire time. He could have been on different missions that might have given him more scars, I don’t know. Either way it went, disturbing an Asset in a mission was not the best way to go.

Now, if it looked like things were going south for Steve, I’d risk assisting. 

Wrinkling my nose at the smell of some cow manure nearby, I pulled off to the side behind a thatch of trees not far from the warehouse. I could see in the dim star and moonlight the silhouette of the place, and hear the soft sound of muffled fighting. 

Letting out a soft sigh, I got out of the car packing a rifle just in case and headed towards the building, wincing a bit when I noticed just how bad the place looked. It was a broken down ruin of a warehouse, the roof barely holding together, and the walls were pock marked with bullet holes on almost every surface. Windows were long gone, even the shards of glass weren’t visible on the ground anymore. Grass and a few trees were off to the side of the building, but otherwise the place was like a vacant relic of another time. 

The sounds of fighting had dwindled down to nothing, and after another few minutes, I heard softly, “All clear. Hostiles neutralized. Awaiting arrival of the Winter Soldier.” God, his voice was a whisper, but it echoed inside me, making my blood temperature rise and rush faster. 

Swallowing a bit, his voice resonating in me like the most beautiful song, it almost brought tears to my eyes. I heard Steve grunt out another Russian affirmative before the coms went dead. And that’s when I advanced carefully and quietly, hoping that Steve would see and recognize me and that I didn’t startle him. Bloodlust and battle rage tended to take hold of us both from time to time. But, though Steve usually could push all that rage and fire away faster than anyone I had ever known, I didn’t want to push my luck.

I found an area to climb inside a gaping window and eased into the place. Not so pleasant with a nice sized M4A1 Colt in one of my hands. The light was even dimmer in here but after my eyes adjusted, I could see well enough. There was a pile of bodies on one side of the warehouse, where the remains of what looked to be a set of tables and lab equipment. Shattered bottles and smashed computers were spattered with blood and gore of all kinds. Jesus, Steve had been busy.

I then spotted Steve standing with his Hydra colored round shield not far away, absently kicking at some poor fuck’s foot. 

Finally opting to make a bit of noise, I said softly in broken English, “Well this place looks like a total wreck, Star. Even I’m impressed.”

Steve’s head shot up and I reached out and caught the suddenly spinning airborne shield in the next second. Fuck, that was close. I put it down and was about to just let it drop, when I suddenly got embraced by one tired, dirty, bloody Steve. Finally opting not to drop the shield, but feeling a bit awkward, I straddled the thing weirdly and nearly tripped. Steve braced me and pulled away a bit so he could look at me.

God, he was fucking gorgeous.

Hydra must have made Steve grow out his hair on the top in order to help with his disguise of not being an iconic Captain America anymore. The sides were shaved, but the hair on the top part of his head was tied back in a high ponytail to where it then cascaded all the way down his back. Still clean-shaven, maybe a scar or two new that I hadn’t seen before graced his biceps, and a new red star surrounded by a circle was tattooed there as well. His outfit was similar to mine, though his battle tunic had no sleeves, and he had thick arm to wrist guards. Everything else looked the same, just on Steve’s serum enhanced body.

I reached up and touched his face with my metal left hand, swallowing thickly and before I could think or do anything else, Steve tugged me in for a kiss. An actual, fucking kiss.

And, for the record, Steve had lips for kissing. Oh, did he ever. And, also for the record, as first kisses go between the two of us - actual physical ones, it was pretty amazing.

Both of us probably smelled worse than outhouses, with sweat, grime, and in his case, blood, but I wouldn’t have changed it for the world. Maybe change a bit of the scenery, but oh well. Fire burned in my veins. They say that when you kiss your soulmate, there’s fireworks and movie star type of lights that flash off behind your eyelids.

I don’t know about all that. What I do know was that it was about fucking time that one of us took the initiative.

This was hella dangerous, for Hydra could be watching, but something told me inside that Steve wouldn’t have lip locked with me if that were the case. So, I softened and enjoyed the thorough, hot first kiss, my eyes filtering closed.

When Steve finally pulled away, he leaned in to smell me and I couldn’t help but smile like a dork. There was so much happy, tired, and relieved vibes coming off him in waves. Steve was always a sap, but I didn’t mind it one bit.

_Bucky._

“Winter,” Steve whispered, before kissing me again, of which I happily returned.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Also, here is a link to Bucky's Playlist (most songs are from the 90's and beyond): [ The Vilified ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-K1q1pw04Bs&list=PLlTA2QfMqDFAoDTsYlYY6ujmaJ5C_O-YT)


End file.
